


you really are a troubled individual (i've never meant someone who isn't)

by justprompts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Sectumsempra Scene | Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter's Duel in the Bathroom, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, F/M, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Tom Riddle is Not Voldemort, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justprompts/pseuds/justprompts
Summary: In one world, when Harry Potter confronts Draco Malfoy in a flooded bathroom, Draco thinks of his Mother, thinks of his Father behind prison bars - and points the wand at Harry, cruelty - rage -revengeon his lips.In another world, Draco thinks of himself, he thinks of the writhing mark on his skin - and he points the wand athimself- escape on his lips.Death. Escape.
Relationships: Abraxas Malfoy/Tom Riddle, Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	you really are a troubled individual (i've never meant someone who isn't)

**Author's Note:**

> AU from Sixth Year, where spells cross each other, and Draco and Harry somehow end up in Tom Riddle's first year at Hogwarts. What follows is healing, on Draco's side, growing, on Tom's side and Harry trying to fix everyone. (Its isn't Dumbledore Bashing, but we're just generally unimpressed with his behavior, like in all my fics).
> 
> Btw, this isn't Tomarry. Its more of a Draco/Harry being young Tom's supportive, elder brothers, he truly needs a mentor he can look up to, and now he has two, yay! (Well, eventually.)
> 
> Also, I know that I have like a fifty incomplete fics, I just wrote this, so. I hope you enjoy it, anyway!

_________

In one world, when Harry Potter confronts Draco Malfoy in a flooded bathroom, Draco thinks of his Mother, thinks of his Father behind prison bars - and points the wand at Harry, cruelty - rage - _revenge_ on his lips. 

In another world, Draco thinks of himself, he thinks of the writhing mark on his skin - and he points the wand at _himself_ \- escape on his lips. 

_Death._

_Sweet Escape._

Except, of course, Harry Potter exists to foil Draco's plans - and as he realises just before Draco mouths the words, he runs towards him, trying to knock his wand out, trying to knock him aside - _anything at all -_

His shoulder presses against Draco’s, pushing him to his right - 

The green light releases with a bright burst, grazing Draco and hitting the mirror behind Harry, reflecting immediately, into thin, scattered beams, which collide simultaneously with them both - 

_The last thing Harry remembers is the broken mirror shards, the sweaty, dirty blond hair and terrified grey eyes._

________

Its pitch black. 

His cheek feels wet and warm, like its bleeding. 

Harry wonders idly how tragically hilarious it is that he once told Draco that if Voldemort couldn't kill him, _Draco_ certainly couldn't. 

Well, well. 

If this really was the afterlife, though, it hurt too fucking much, he thought, as he swallowed - god, _his throat hurts like he's been thirsty for fifty years -_

His eyes feel heavy, and swollen and they _burn_ behind the lids - 

He opens them. 

And instantly recognizes the Hogwarts Infirmary. _Oh, thank god._ He _had_ just been overreacting, that means. Malfoy hadn't actually managed killing him. How embarrassing it would have been for Ron, if Harry really died by Malfoy’s hand. 

Also, Harry thought belatedly, Malfoy was _suicidal._ That was definitely something to look into - 

"Excuse me?" 

Harry turned to see a woman standing, in Madam Pomphrey's usual nurse uniform. In hindsight, that should have been the first clue. 

"How're you feeling, dear?" she asked, pursing her lips as she looked at him. "Those were quite some _nasty_ cuts you had there." 

"I - I'm alright," he stuttered, a sinking feeling beginning to churn in his stomach, as he looked around. The curtains were a different color than what he remembered, and the beds were narrower, the mattresses not as soft as he remembered - but that wasn't anything too strange, right? 

The woman tutted, uncorking a vial and placing it in his hand, as he struggled to sit upright. 

"Um - who exactly are you?" Harry asked, looking at the blue potion in the vial. "I don't remember seeing you before any - " 

"Madam Tabitha, dear," she said, kindly, easily - _naturally_. "I'm the Healer and Matron, here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm afraid that though you wear School robes, I don't know who you are, either." 

Harry blinked once. Blinked twice. Ignored the sudden, nauseous sensation - 

"Where - where - how did I get _here_?" he asked, trying to even his breathing and his rapidly increasing heartbeat, eyes widening in horror. "Where did you find - was there someone else with me?!" he exclaimed, remembering how Draco had been grazed by the spell, too. 

"Your friend is on the bed inside," she said, tipping back a vial into his mouth, which was hanging open. He coughed, trying not to choke. "His injuries were quite severe. As for how you got here, well - a few students found you, lying in a deserted corridor." 

There was a long pause, as Madam Tabitha bustled about. 

"I need to meet - uh - my friend," he said, finally, jaw clenching. "I need to - talk to him. Urgently." 

"You will not be leaving this bed before Headmaster Dippet comes to visit you both," she retorted, firmly. 

Wait. Wait a _fucking_ second. Headmaster Dippet? 

Headmaster Dippet. 

Headmaster _Armando fucking Dippet._

Oh, no. 

"Madam Tabitha?" he asked, fear thrumming, trying to keep his fingers still. "Could you tell me the date?" 

"Oh, it's - " she paused, looking at the wall behind Harry. "It's 14 October." 

Harry turned his head back with trepidation, his eyes locking on the Calendar hanging on the wall behind his bed. 

He swallowed thickly, not believing it, it wasn't fucking possible, _no way -_

There, in bold, black and navy blue letters said, proudly above the month - 

_1938._

19- _fucking_ -38. 

Madam Tabitha passed him a scandalized, alarmed look as he proceeded to curse every being in the world.

________

" - of course, of course, Mr. Granger, any student willing to learn will always be allowed at Hogwarts!" Dippet proclaimed, jovially, as Dumbledore and Slughorn looked thoughtfully at Draco and Potter. 

Potter seemed to have understood the situation quite well, Draco thought, trying not to glare at Potter as he immediately, and without warning declared them friends, and distant cousins - that too, by the name _Granger_. Maybe, Draco should just be glad that Potter hadn't impulsively said _Longbottom,_ he shuddered. 

Draco frowned at the Calendar on the wall, sneer pulling on his lips. 1938, _honestly_. This was all Potter's fault. It was supposed to be impossible, was the thing. Of course, Boy _Hero_ would find a way to do it. 

This could also, all be a trick, far as Draco knew, but then again, nothing about their encounter in the Bathroom had been planned. Draco had almost - 

He couldn’t imagine it, anymore, somehow in the heat of the moment, it had all seemed _so much -_

His Mother would have been devastated. 

_Your Mother isn't even born yet, you dunce,_ a voice in his head said. 

No. Draco would _not_ unleash that right now. Better to pack it all up, compartmentalize it at the back, and move on. He was pretty good at that - he had lifelong experience with it, after all. He wondered how long had it been since he had been casually thinking about and disregarding the fact that he wouldn’t mind dying. Much. 

" - its simply terrible, how these things seem to happen to the unsuspecting people," Slughorn said, shaking his head and looking forlorn. Dumbledore hadn't spoken yet. Draco wondered what he was thinking about. "Terrible times! My sincerest condolences for both your families once again, Harry, Draco," he nodded at Draco, who grimaced. Dumbledore hummed. 

Potter was quite good at this, he admitted to himself, begrudgingly. For being in another century, his Woe-is-me and My-family-is-dead-due-to-the-war and I'm-homeless excuses had been spun quite easily - flawlessly. Even though Dumbledore still passed pointed looks at their school robes. 

Nobody had yet mentioned how the both of them looked so much like a Potter and a Malfoy. Draco felt pathetically grateful. He really didn't want to sit and explain _that._

"Thank you, Professor," Potter said, quietly, like he was grieving. Dippet shot them another pitying smile. "We're lucky we escaped, really. We only managed hiding in the crowd because of these spare Hogwarts uniforms that we found near Hogsmeade. We had to discard our old clothes, they were too recognizable. Grindelwald's forces were - ruthless, to say the least." 

Draco made an agreeable noise, because Dumbledore wouldn't stop _staring_ at him. 

"We would need to get you sorted quickly, boys," Dippet said, and Madam Tabitha coughed pointedly. "Right after your treatment, of course, of course - " he added, quickly. "And your qualifications. Since you say you're homeschooled, I'm not sure how ahead you are with your curriculum - " 

"We're both sixteen," Draco interjected, quickly. "And fairly skilled at magic," he cringed slightly at the thought of admitting that Potter was skilled, "I'm sure we can join the other sixteen-year olds in the school." 

"That would be Sixth Year, then," Dippet said, looking slightly skeptical. "We could test you on your claim before you start, but I think - " 

"We will see," Dumbledore interrupted, smiling slightly now. Draco almost slumped in relief. "Let them have a week to settle. I'm sure they as well as the teachers will be able to judge whether they should continue in Sixth Year or not." 

"Yeah," Potter said, nodding, and shooting Draco a quick glance. Draco wondered how far he'd fallen, if he had to exchange conspiring looks with _Potter._

________

Harry wondered when everything had gone downhill. Probably the start of the year, when Malfoy had literally stamped all over him, but right now, boy - could he see the consequences. 

"" _Slytherin!"_ " 

Malfoy stared at him. Blinked. 

And stared. And blinked. And stared, his lips parting slowly, eyes widening dramatically. 

"What?" Harry snapped, defensively, as he took off the Hat, glaring at Malfoy, who had already been sorted to Slytherin. Dumbledore looked like he was highly regretting believing their story, now. Slughorn clapped his hands, cheerfully. "I wasn't going to leave you _alone_ in Slytherin, _Draco."_

He might as well call him Draco, after all this mess. 

Draco blinked once more, then gained his composure so quickly that it was kind of scary. 

"Of course, _Harry,"_ Draco spat out, and Dippet looked at them with a frown. They were apparently best of friends and all. It was probably wierd. 

"I'll just be calling the Head Boy and Head Girl for you both," Slughorn said, excitedly. 

Harry and Draco glared at each other as discreetly as they could. 

"Both Slytherins, you see," Slughorn continued, preening a little. Dumbledore twitched slightly. "They'll show you around the school. Just a moment - just a moment - " 

They sat down in the chairs that Harry had often sat with Dumbledore in. 

1938, though. 

Harry could atleast be sure, especially with Dumbledore teaching him so much about Voldemort's life, that he won't be in the same year as them. The thought gave him an overwhelming sense of relief, because he really wasn't sure if he could handle both a teenage Lord Voldemort and Draco fucking Malfoy together. 

"Good Evening, Headmaster," a voice came from their right. Harry turned to see - 

"Good Evening Professor," Orion Black said, an almost perfect copy of Sirius in his younger photos, smiling grimly, and nodding at Slughorn. "Headmaster." 

"These are the transfers?" Walburga Black - because it _had_ to be her, it couldn't possibly be anyone else - said, glancing almost hungrily at Harry and Draco. "Sixth Years, yes?" 

Draco nodded once, stiffly, looking at Walburga with sharp eyes, recognition clear in them. 

Well, they _were_ family, Harry supposed. 

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Orion said, smoothly, from her side, looking anything but welcoming. "And welcome to Slytherin, of course. I'm sure you'll find the school pleasant." 

Harry heard Draco huff quietly, disbelievingly. Harry could relate.

________

"Orion Black," Sirius's Dad introduced, the moment they stepped out of the Headmaster's Office, extending a hand. 

Harry took it, shaking with a firm grip, as Draco eyed it with barely concealed disgust. Harry wondered what _his_ problem was, now. Orion's eyes narrowed dangerously when Draco didn't take it, letting his hand fall to the side. Walburga seemed amused, as Draco took her hand, grazing it with his lips, perfect posture and all. Harry wondered whether he had had lessons for this. 

"Harry Granger," he said, with a half-smile. "And Draco - er - Granger. We're distant cousins." 

Draco sneered, openly. 

"And I'm Walburga," she said, a coy smile on her face. "We're a Year above yours, but we'll leave you both in _capable_ hands." 

Draco rolled his eyes. Harry swallowed nervously, it was like getting away from their time had made Draco revert back to his fifth year, fourth year self - haughty, proud, arrogant, sharp. He wondered if that was the best way to go about this. Certainly not. 

" - and this is the Great Hall," Orion said, tightly, as they walked through, Harry trying to find any familiar face. Draco was barely even looking anywhere. "Straight through this corridor, and you walk to - " 

Harry tuned Orion out again.

_________

"Serpentis," Walburga - _dead Great Aunt Walburga!_ \- said, when they reached the Portrait to the Slytherin Common Room. Draco glanced at Potter once, who like always, looked calm - righteous - his eyes racing around everywhere. 

The only thing that Draco could feel right now, was relief. Tangible, immense relief - because he had been so, so close to giving up on the Cabinet, so close to _failing_ \- failing his family, failing his Mother, his Father, disappointing the Dark Lord, so close to _begging_ Professor Snape for help, so close to another one of Aunt Bella's _punishments_ \- 

He shivered when they entered, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with the cold under the green lake. 

He had a fresh start, a fresh year - _who knows when they would get back, and how, anyway -_ he had a new reputation to make, new place to cross the ranks of, to once more make his name known. He loved this, the mind tricks, the intimidation tactics, the slight expressions. 

It was Draco's court. It was his skill. _His game._

He eyed the people sitting scattered across the Common Room with an expertly disdainful eye, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Orion. 

He was Head Boy, after all. Which meant, he had to be - naturally, the unspoken Leader of Slytherin. _Well, not anymore_. As if Draco would let anyone take that from him. Especially someone who was older than his Grandfather, for fuck's sake. 

Antagonize till the person loses control, Draco thought. Orion would hardly last, anyway. He was clenching his jaw already, the anger clear in his eyes, and Draco hadn't even started yet. 

" - jumped up little _mudblood,"_ a young voice said from the left corner of the Common Room, and Draco almost felt Potter's magic lash out angrily for a second. 

Walburga let out a little laugh. Potter stared at her, expression unreadable. 

Oh. _Wait._ What better way to gain Potter's trust, and to take a new stance? Draco could speak up right now, making it clear who stood where, he could change so much a fifty years before even being born, for _Salazar's_ sake - 

Before he could say anything, Potter had already strode over to the dormitory, in all his self-righteous, angry glory - like he couldn't bear listening to this. 

Sad for him, because he would be listening to this 24/7 in Slytherin. 

Draco sighed. 

_________

"Do you _want_ to repeat that, Rosier?" another voice said, just as Harry reached the door. He could see the group of first-years from here. 

This voice, though, this voice he recognized, flinching slightly, as the cold, high inflection of the voice made Harry cringe, sending an involuntary shiver of fear up his spine. "Because if I were you, I _really_ wouldn't." 

"If you were me," the boy, Rosier apparently, jeered back. "That's the problem, isn't it? You _aren't_ me!" 

"Small mercies," Tom Marvolo Riddle muttered, rolling his eyes - and he was just so _tiny!!_ And cute. His eyes were dark, and Harry could feel something dark, maybe even dangerous about them, but on the whole, he just seemed like any other little kid. 

Emphasis on _little._

Like, he reached Harry’s chest maybe. 

Maybe. That was an eleven-year-old Voldemort. 

"Shut up, Rosier," another kid said, this one blonde, and pointy - looking extraordinarily like - 

Oh. Harry watched Draco's eyes locking onto the kid's. His grandfather. Or great-grandfather, or something. 

"Do you really want Tom to - " the rest of his sentence was drowned out as he lowered his voice. 

Harry entered his dormitory, looking at the things Dippet had arranged for them, his course books on his desk, robes on his bed. 

"As if he could have the guts to do that!" Harry heard Rosier saying, from outside the dorm. 

"You _will_ regret that in seven hours," Tom Riddle promised, still sounding calm - and Harry knew he meant it. 

He took a deep breath.

________

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I'll update when I can, I'm hoping to do some time skips to summer hols, when Draco and Harry end up going to Wool's, and see how Tom lives.
> 
> If you liked this, do read my other works :  
>  __  
> [every night before i sleep (i like to think you think of me)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766853)
> 
> _[the dreams in which i'm dying (are the best i've ever had)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28809843) _
> 
> _[and he smiled (with a mouthful of bloody teeth)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29236707) _
> 
> __[ever fallen in love with someone? (that you shouldn't have fallen in love with)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766853)   
> 


End file.
